


pain.

by London_The_Loser



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Clay | Dream Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Demonic Possession, Dreamon, Hurt Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt No Comfort, Injury, JSFJDLHFdsF, LMAO, Memory Loss, Might Add More, Pain pain pain pain, Pandora's Vault, Panic Attacks, Prison, Self-Hatred, Stimming, Trauma, anyway, brrrrrrrrr, for now i guess, haha angsty bitch is BACK, just not back with the wilbur angst, like barely any
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:22:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28890549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London_The_Loser/pseuds/London_The_Loser
Summary: ["dream, your reign of terror is over, it's time to face consequences for the many abuses you've brought to this server."wait, reign of terror? dream forced himself to look upwards, confusion and panic blending together all at once as he was met with at least a dozen different bodies surrounding him. was this- is this why he's injured? were they fighting? why were they fighting? and why can't he remember?]ordream deserved better and because of that i'm going to mix multiple different head canons and theories to make him as sympathetic as possible :D
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound
Comments: 15
Kudos: 509





	pain.

**Author's Note:**

> dream's friends practically shoved him into his own redemption arc, never hesitated to demonize him, used him as a scapegoat and placed the blame on him whenever they found it convenient, left and betrayed him countless times, yet he continued to protect them (even when they didn't understand what he was doing). 
> 
> so anyway, dreamon possession theory :)

dream sucked in a shaky breath, lungs expanding and collapsing in an unsteady rhythm. he sat rigidly on the rough ground, the surrounding forest eerily quiet compared to the blood rushing behind his ears. sapnap and george's words still sat heavy on his chest, like a boot pressing down against his sternum. what was he supposed to do? what was he supposed to say? _i'm sorry, i didn't mean to, it's your fault, i told you to stop, why couldn't you just help me, you always make it harder than it needs to be, i'm sorry, you're right, i hurt you i'm sorry, i'm just trying to keep you safe, why do you hate me, what did i do-?_

the blond felt his hands flail uselessly by his sides, low whines soothing his urge to scream. he remembers the gear mechanism that techno had made for him months ago, small and smoothly functioning, meant to rest in his hands while he spun the metal gears indefinitely. 

frustrated, dream tore the porcelain mask from his face, throwing it blindly against a tree. he ignored the pang of disappointment when nothing but a soft thud came from the direction, briefly hoping the fucking thing shattered against the rough bark. there was no point to any of this, there was no fucking _point._ why did he care so much, if they didn't give a damn about him? why should he feel inclined to protect them? they were immature and selfish, never failing to act irrationally if it meant getting what they want, whether it be revenge, satisfaction, comfort, land, or material objects.

he killed tommy's cow, then acted out of anger after the boy burnt his tower (why, why, _why_ couldn't sapnap take a moment and _think._ just think. you killed his pet, sap, you killed his friend, just _take the punishment-_ ). give tommy mars, make sure the boy doesn't hurt her, hoping more than anything it would be enough for sapnap to stand down. it wasn't, it hadn't been, and now spirit- what's _left_ of spirit, sat pretty in any one of tommy's chests. 

be the king, don't get involved. wear the crown, but _stay neutral._ i'm a target and you're my friend, i'm the villain and you're my king, _don't make them hate you._ why was it hard to understand? were the consequences not dire enough for him? was it so hard to just _listen?_ maybe dream let them get away with too much, maybe he let them step on him, use him, pretend they care and then treat him like a doll. good for a laugh when they needed one, good for a weapon when they needed one, for for a _villain_ when they needed one. 

were they ever his friends?

**of course they were.**

dream jerked, choking on a breath as his hands flew to clutch at the hair splayed around his ears, an agonizing pain pulsing through his head. he could feel his body tremor violently, the cold air seeping through his hoodie and joining the flaring panic in an attempt to rattle his bones. he was scared, _god_ he was scared, he didn't know what was happening or why his vision was blurring dangerously, why he could feel the life draining from his fingertips and his tongue grow sticky with a rotting, dirty taste. why did they leave him? _just tell me you hate me,_ as if george never hurt dream, almost like the younger was left countless times to tremor quietly, exhaustion sinking into a pool at the bottom of his lungs. 

**you deserved it.**

another pang of pain split his skull in two. who was talking to him? _am i dying?_

**no.**

dream sucked in a weak gasp, a soft whimper climbing up his burning throat. _it feels like i am._

**good. you deserve it.**

annoyance overcame the welling panic that lingered, and a pinch formed between his eyebrows. _how? i told them to be careful, i even told them why. how could i deserve it, all i ever do is-_

**stop making excuses. don't you trust them, trust their judgment?**

_why should i trust them, how could i? they've done nothing to earn it._

**you know that isn't true. they've done plenty for you, yet all this time you've done nothing but _hide._**

_i have a right to keep secrets,_ he pleaded, grip falling from his hair and down to clutch at his biceps. his breath was picking up again, throat raw from unknown reasons. shivers ran up and down his skin, energy draining into the forest floor against his will. 

**don't you think they deserve to know how broken you are? how damaged?**

_i'm not-_

**you can't sleep, your judgment clouded with exhaustion. you don't understand human's half the time, you don't understand how they socialize and build civilizations and communicate. you can't comprehend politeness, you don't know how to process kindness. you are unable to return affection, but crave it constantly. you expect other's to understand you, but you have _never_ trusted another person, never given yourself up-**

_stop! stop just- shut up. what do you want? why does it... hurt to- to think-_

**your mind is failing you, it's crippled. you've done something unforgivable, you deserve this.**

dream blinked tiredly, barely noticing the tears dripping off his jaw. _i don't want to be alone anymore._

**you don't have to be, dream. nobody will understand you, they crumble under the weight of you, too human and too vulnerable. but i am _power._** **i can fix what you've broken and protect you from their hatred.**

_i don't need you, and i don't want your help._

**you'll rot in your own body.**

_maybe i want to._

**you want to waste away, hated by those you love? no you don't. you want to stop trying, just for long enough to pull your thoughts together. don't you want a break, dream?**

his consciousness was slipping, tired limbs laying limp against the ground. he was so tired.

**then sleep.**

his eyes fluttered closed, a shuttering sigh falling from his paling lips. 

his eyes flew open, body jerking violently at the sudden clatter of sensory input, wave after _wave_ of stimulation that he hadn't processed in... wait- why-? 

dream's lips parted suddenly, a brutal keen tearing out of his throat as he processed the pain shooting up his spine from every direction. the blond could feel himself stumble from the suddenness of it, foot catching his descent and sending a pulse right up his leg. just from the few seconds of consciousness, the rattle of his ribcage and ankle led him to assume he was fairly bruised, sporting an ankle sprain and hopefully just a few bruised or fractured ribs. which was weird. the last time thing he could remember was... was-

"dream, your reign of terror is over, it's time to face consequences for the many abuses you've brought to this server."

a cough yanked dream's body forward, and he genuinely didn't understand why his body ached with fighting fatigue, why he's sporting defensive wounds, why his head was pounding, and why his stomach burned with unnatural hunger. now that he thought amount it, his hoodie was practically falling off his frame, or at least looser than it was yesterday (yesterday?). every second he stayed upright, he noted another particularly tender or torn muscle, understanding the borderline agony he felt from simply standing. those were offensive wounds. 

wait, reign of terror? dream forced himself to look upwards, confusion and panic blending together all at once as he was met with at least a dozen different bodies surrounding him. was this- is this why he's injured? were they fighting? why were they fighting? and why can't he _remember?_

"wait, just-" another cough sent dream stumbling forward again, tubbo stepping back quickly to avoid the man (why was tubbo in front? why was he leading any kind of confrontation? it seemed unnecessary, considering he was surrounded by older guardian figures who should be taking responsibility over a situation like this-). dream barely registered as his mind took note of the way the younger seemed scared of dream, instinctually backing away. "who- why am i- what's going on?"  
  


for a second, the world stood still. dream swayed dangerously on his feet, unaware of the conflicting mannerism he was presenting compared to just seconds ago. the members of the server that stood in front of him stood stock still, bewildered as they watched their enemy's shoulders drop, hands beginning to shake by his side, tipping forward dangerously and struggling to breathe. 

and then it exploded. 

"dream! surrender, or die by execution right where you stand!" tommy barked, forced confidence bleeding into his shaking voice as he took a step forward. 

"what did i... what did-"

"enough of your games, dream." the man in question whipped his head around, heart fluttering with longing. _why? you just saw him, he just-_

"george?" he rasped instead, fighting to hold back pained grunts as his right ankle held the majority of his weight. 

the british man looked... different. older, more tired. his signature glasses were replaced with slightly mechanical looking goggles, a hoodie sitting snuggly against his torso instead of a t-shirt. "dream, stand down."

against his better judgment, dream let out a painful sounding wheeze, trembling hand coming up to clutch at his stained green hoodie. his friends (they weren't friends anymore, you _ruined_ them. (what?)) seemed taken aback, there posture leaning away from the unsteady man in front of them. 

"i'm-" _cough_ "i'm having trouble standing in general, george. i might actually fall over, can you-" _cough_ "-help with that? maybe?" he asked, head tilted questioningly in the older man's direction. surely, _surely_ he would take dream's side. dream couldn't remember what he might have done, but it couldn't have been bad enough to warrant this kind of dislike. he could barely think past the clouds of pain and exhaustion, he had obviously lost... _whatever_ kind of fight this was. 

george straightened, grip tightening on his sword. 

"i know what you're trying to do, dream. it's not going to work."

dream huffed, pushing down the clawing feeling of desperation, panic, _terror_ that was beginning to take root. instead, he settled on playful confusion. 

"what am i trying to do, gogy? i mean besides breathe correctly. seriously, dude. i lost or whatever, i stand down. can you just come-"

he hadn't noticed a figure breaking off from the group at his side, hadn't noticed them making their way behind him, until the hilt of a sword was slamming into the base of his skull, sending him tumbling into the grass below him. if his ribs weren't broken before, they were now, he thought ruefully. dream heaved once, twice, blinking rapidly around the dark spots forming in his vision, before stilling entirely. 

when he woke up, he could barely tell if his eyes were open or closed. darkness pressed into him from all sides, nothing but the smell of his own blood and sweat to keep him company. 

_you deserve this._

for some reason, dream believed it. 


End file.
